


To Set You Free

by seblaiens



Series: Traitors and Fools [2]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Abortion, Canon Compliant, F/M, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:12:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/seblaiens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no place for a child in a world full of thieves and murderers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Set You Free

**Author's Note:**

> An Uncharted 2: Among Thieves AU.

Chloe's throat hurts as she retches again, one hand holding onto a tree to keep herself steady, the other holding her hair out of her face.  
  
It's the third consecutive day of her waking up and storming out of her tent to throw up, trying her hardest to be quiet as to not wake anyone. Least of all Harry. He doesn't need to know this. He doesn't need to know she hasn't gotten her period in two months, even though she's usually so punctual she can pin it down to the hour.  
  
There's nobody but her who needs to know this. Any doubt she had before is eliminated by the sinking realization of her symptoms matching everything she knows about pregnancy. Which isn't a lot, she has to admit. It has never crossed her mind before.  
  
Chloe spits onto the ground one last time before making her way back to the tent she shares with Flynn, opening it quietly and crawling back in next to him. The air is hot and humid, but at least they're safe from mosquitos and bugs behind the net entrance.  
  
"Everything alright?" She hears him ask groggily as Chloe rummages through her things to find her bottle of water, taking a swig to get the taste of vomit out of her mouth.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"It's the third day you've gone out in the morning."  
  
Chloe freezes, the bottle still against her lips. She thought he'd been asleep all those times before.  
  
"You mind telling me what's going on?"  
  
She gets back into bed, lying in her back so she doesn't have to look Harry in the eyes, who is lying on his side with his body turned towards her, leaned on his elbow with his face in his hand. "I think I have the right to know."  
  
"It's just a bug, I think," Chloe says, turning towards Harry and trying to convince him of her lie by the sheer intensity of her gaze.  
  
"You're not sick, Chloe," Harry sighs exasperated, "do you think I'm fucking stupid? Do you think I'm so clueless that I don't realize-"  
  
"Alright," Chloe cuts him off, tears of frustration burning in her eyes. She wipes at them angrily, blaming it on all the hormones her body isn't used to, the ones that have made her flip out at the slightest inconvenience in the last month. She even almost yelled at Lazarević last week, when he was laying into Harry, even after he had found the ships for him, on his own.  
  
"So you are...?" Harry trails off nodding towards her lower body.  
  
"Pregnant? Knocked up? Expecting? Yeah, I guess."  
  
"You guess?"  
  
"It's not like I carry a pregnancy test with me whenever I take a job!" Chloe whisper-yells at Harry, who raises his arms in defeat.  
  
"What are we gonna do?"  
  
"What do you mean, 'we?'" Chloe raises her eyebrows at him. She hasn't really counted Harry into this whole mess yet, didn't want to complicate it any further by having to account for someone else's feelings about the parasite in her body. And, to be honest, she doesn't feel like giving Harry the luxury of an opinion.  
  
"Well, it's mine, innit?  
  
"Of course it's yours." It's not like Chloe tries to hang around Lazarević's soldiers more than she needs to. They creep her out, with their yelling and their drinking, and the fact that she can't understand Serbian makes it hard to even communicate with the lower ranking soldiers.  
  
"So, I think I've earned a say in what's going to happen."  
  
Chloe doesn't answer, just turns her back towards Harry to not have to look at him. She doesn't want this child, doesn't want to play happy family with Flynn when she knows they'll end up resting each other down the line.  
  
"Chloe-"  
  
"I'll let you know," she cuts him off, not interested in what he has to say.  
  
She has to figure it out for herself first.  
  
  
  
During the day it's easy to forget about it. When she and Harry look through the ships for any sort of clue after they don't find their treasure inside, they're usually quiet, save for Harry asking, again and again, where the corpses are if not on the ships. Chloe is too tired to even think about a possible answer anymore, and she has to sit down for a few minutes each half an hour or so. Harry keeps looking at her with these concerned glances, until she's sick of them and sits down outside, next to where Lazarević's soldiers are guarding them. At least they won't treat her with kid gloves.  
  
They try to talk to her in broken English, laughing when she tries to answer and they don't understand. She smiles as they talk to each other, big smiles on their faces and making grand gestures with their hands. They don't look like soldiers holding carrying around AK-47's, they look like little boys having fun.  
  
One of them speaks a little more English than the others, and he introduced himself as Ivan. Chloe almost laughs at the stereotypical name, but her cackle dies in her throat when she feels her stomach lurch again. Ivan must realize that she's not feeling well, because he gives her his water bottle and pats her shoulder. It only feels a little bit condescending. Poor little girl, can't handle a whole day of working.  
  
Chloe sits with them until Harry comes out of the wreckage, none the wiser than he was before. It's a waste of time, them coming here every day. If they haven't found anything by now, they won't after searching the same damn thing for the hundredth time. She knows Harry is incredibly frustrated, but he tries to not take it out on her too much, she knows. Even though she's the only one who he can rant to, considering the company.  
  
"Are you alright?" Harry asks her, quietly, as they walk back to their camp, soldiers in front and behind them, Ivan occasionally turning around to check on her, his dark hair flat against his head with sweat. He smiles at Chloe whenever she catches his gaze.  
  
"I'm okay. I might leave for a while, get some rest," Chloe decides. They need to find something, quickly, so she can leave Borneo. They need Nathan.  
  
Harry looks at her for a while before talking.  
  
"Going back to Australia?"  
  
"Maybe. I think I just need some time away, get a clear head on the situation."  
  
"Which one?" Harry asks with a humorless laugh, but Chloe chooses not to answer.  
  
She thinks about booking a flight to a country where she can get a legal abortion, but can't actually get herself to pay for it after putting in all the information. Not because she doesn't want it done, but because she feels guilty about not even hearing Harry out on this one.  
  
She guesses he does have a say in this, however small it might be.  
  
That night, when she crawls into bed next to him, he turns to her and kisses her hungrily, one hand on her ass, the other on her stomach. Chloe wants to pull away from the touch, but Harry is stronger than her and pushes her on her back, sliding down her body until his face is at the same height as her abdomen. He kisses her navel and lower, and Chloe hides her face behind her hand to hide the tears escaping her eyes from him.  
  
She doesn't need to hear his opinion. She knows.  
  
They have sex, slow and passionate, and Chloe bites back tears by grabbing onto Harry and pushing her nails into his back, scratching him until she feels his skin rip open. He kisses her face and shoulders, licks over her collarbones and whispers sweet nothing's into her ear, and his accent turns Chloe on more than she would ever admit to herself. She has a thing for London guys, their rough charm, and Harry fits right into the bill.  
  
She falls asleep with his arms wrapped around her from behind, one of them resting on her stomach and, occasionally, his thumb will rub circles just below her belly button.  
  
It's making her decision so much harder.

 

Her flight is in two weeks. They have enough time to talk before she leaves.   
  
  
Lazarević follows them to the boats the next day, wanting to see for himself. Chloe doesn't understand what his goal is, but she guesses he's just making sure that there really is nothing to find. He's a smart man albeit a bit brash, she has to admit. He has medical knowledge, probably from his time at the army, and Chloe wonders how often he's had to stitch up comrades or watch them bleed out in front of him before. Not that she needs or wants to know even more about the man who has no problems shooting his own men for breaking his trust and then turns around to treat the next one's wounds with careful hands and a clap on the back when he's done. He's a mystery to her. A mystery she's not keen on figuring out.

 

“Weeks, and you have found nothing?” Lazarević asks as he rummages through old boxes left behind by the crew. “Not even a skeleton.”

 

“It seems the crew just... disappeared,” Harry shrugs. “There's no trace of them.”

 

“A whole crew doesn't just turn into dust.” Lazarević gets up from sorting through old fabric so old it's almost turned into dust completely. The air inside the ship makes Chloe uneasy, a foul smell combined with the hot, humid climate making a cold sweat appear all over her body. She feels it dripping down her face and her back, and she has to lean against the wall of the ship so she doesn't fall over. She doesn't want to get sick in front of Harry, much less Lazarević, so she takes deep, slow breaths through her mouth instead of her nose. Until now she was blessed with throwing up in the morning only, but it's only her luck that it stretches over the whole day, now.

 

Harry looks back at her, concerned, but he chooses to keep Lazarević occupied instead of going over to her. Chloe's grateful to keep at least a little bit of her dignity in this situation, and they soon leave the ship again when Lazarević is sure that they hadn't overlooked any clues.

  
"Careful," Harry says when Chloe steps outside and looses her footing, falling flat on her ass. He rushes over to her to help her up, but Chloe pushes him away as he grabs her arm.   
  
"I'm okay," she hisses with a look over to Lazarević, who's watching them intently. She doesn't need him asking questions, even though she knows there's no way for him to come to conclusion of her being pregnant. He probably just sees it as Harry being overprotective and love-sick, and her not being used to the climate.

 

“You're pale as a ghost, you sure?” Harry whispers as Lazarević walks away back to their camp, leaving them behind to fend for themselves.

 

“Just... not feeling well,” Chloe wipes away sweat from her forehead, drying her hand on her pants before starting to walk after Lazarević. She doesn't make it far before she has to lean against a tree for support when her stomach lurches painfully, and she leans over in the last second to not hit herself with vomit.

 

“Christ, darling,” she hears Harry say as he steps up to her, pushing her hair out of her face and grabbing her hip to keep her steady. Chloe wants the ground to open up beneath her and swallow her whole.

 

“Everything back to normal?” Harry asks after Chloe clears her throat and spits on the ground one last time.

 

“Unless I've managed to throw up the spawn of Satan somehow, no,” Chloe answers, coldly.

 

“I thought it was mine,” Harry tries to joke, but Chloe knows her words have hit him when his hands leave her body and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. He doesn't meet her eyes as he begins walking towards the camp, only turning back once to see if she's following him, which she does, with some problems. She wishes she hadn't said that.

 

Chloe sits with Ivan at dinner while Harry doesn't show up, probably talking about further strategies with Lazarevic, who doesn't eat with his men either, today. Ivan picks up on her bad mood right away and tries to crack a few jokes, but soon gives up when Chloe doesn't even give him as much as a tight lipped smile.

 

“Trouble in paradise?”

 

“What do you mean?” Chloe asks after swallowing some of the tasteless food they get every day. For the amount of money Lazarević puts into this, she would have thought he'd get some better rations.

 

“You and Flynn. You usually eat together.” Ivan shrugs. “You had a fight?”

 

“Something like that.” Chloe stops for a few seconds, trying to find the right words. “I was... He's mad at me, I think.”

 

“Well, what did you do?”

 

“I didn't do anything,” Chloe answers, trying hard not to pout at the implication of her doing something wrong. Ivan laughs.

 

“Women always say that. My girlfriend never admits when she does something wrong, but I don't care.”

 

Chloe looks at Ivan, who's smiling down at his food, probably lost in the memories of his girlfriend.

 

“What's her name?”

 

“Mirjana.” Ivan looks up at Chloe, a small smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. “She's pregnant. I'm here so we can buy a house and get married when I come back.”

 

“You seem pretty young to start a family,” Chloe says, trying to keep her voice neutral. She's paranoid that Ivan knows about her own pregnancy and brought up his girlfriend because of that, but she knows she's being irrational.

 

“Yes,” Ivan chuckles, a little embarrassed, and scratches his head. “It was a real surprise. Her parents weren't very happy. But that's why I'm here.”

 

Chloe cocks her head at him, trying to pry more information out of him.

 

“Ah,” Ivan runs his hand through his hair again, “Zoran pays very well. A lot more than I'd get in the military. And Zoran's reliable, he has someone transfer the money to her every month.”

 

Chloe nods, once again surprised to hear of Lazarević in such a positive way. But she guesses if there weren't any positive sides to working for him, there wouldn't be hundreds of men willing to die for him.

 

“I come from a very poor town,” Ivan explains, “my mother was a translator, but she moved away from Belgrade to my father's town when she got pregnant.”

 

“So that's why your English is so good.”

 

“It's not that great,” Ivan shakes his head, “I can barely write.”  
  
“It's better than my Serbian.” Chloe shrugs as she gets up from the table, bringing her dishes to the kitchen before sighing and starting her search for Harry. She can't stand having to wait for the unavoidable argument they'll have, and doesn't want to have it before going to sleep. She waves good-bye to Ivan as she makes her way to her tent, checking there before walking to Lazarević's where she can already hear their voices. Harry steps outside just as she wants to get in.

 

“What are you doing here?” He asks, furrowing his brows.

 

“I was looking for you.”

 

“Oh, miss me already?” Harry scoffs and makes his way over to his usual smoking spot, on a fallen over tree just a few metres away from their tent. Chloe sits next to him as he lights a cigarette, taking a drag with shaking hands. He's nervous, or _ scared _ , or _ angry _ – she can't really tell. Probably all three. And he's too upset with her to start talking about it on his own, she knows.

 

Chloe wraps her arm around his and puts his head on her shoulder, a feeling of relief flooding her body when Harry kisses the top of her head and takes her hand in his. His body is warm against hers, and he smells slightly sweaty, but she doesn't mind. She likes it when he's not put together and holding himself proud and tall.

 

“Zoran's not happy,” Harry finally says with a sigh. “He wants to move on, but I have no idea what I'm looking for.”

 

Chloe nods. It's why she's booked her flight back to Istanbul, why she notified Victor Sullivan that Nathan might be in some trouble. Harry and she combined don't have the knowledge Nate posses, and it would probably take them a few more months to even get close to another clue.

 

“We'll figure something out,” Chloe says after a while, “we always do.”

 

There's a heavy silence between them, both of them not wanting to broach the subject they're  thinking about. Harry wraps an arm around her waist and lets his fingers slip slightly below her top, feeling her soft skin. He sighs as he finishes his cigarette, throwing it away and breathing out in the direction away from Chloe, before turning towards her and kissing her, wet and full of passion, the taste of his cigarette still on his tongue. Chloe sighs against his lips, a feeling like an electric shock rushing through her body and ending up in her crotch.

 

She almost yelps out in disappointment when Harry pulls back and gets up, making his way over to the tent where a few soldiers are still finishing their meals. She sits on the tree for a few more seconds, trying to gather her thoughts and waiting until she's not so turned on that there's a risk she'll jump someone anymore. For a second she thinks about slipping into her tent and finishing the job herself, but she doesn't want to risk someone stepping in while she's going to town on herself.

 

Instead she waits for the night, when Harry stumbles into the tent after having a few drinks with Lazarević ( _'smoothing over their partnership'_ ), the taste of cigarettes amplified even more with the added beer. He kisses her sloppily as he tries to get out of his pants as quickly as possible, her hands pulling at his shirt and trousers until he's naked and lying on his back, Chloe between his legs. She kisses over his neck and chest while her hand reaches for his cock, spitting into her palm before she begins stroking him.

 

“Eager?” Harry asks with a slight smile on his lips.

 

“You left me high and dry this afternoon.”

 

“I wouldn't say _ dry _ ,” Harry's smile turns smug when he reaches between her legs, stroking over her pussy. Chloe stops moving for a second, her mouth opening slightly as Harry begins massaging her clit, but he stops moving his fingers as soon as she stops stroking him.

 

“You're a selfish asshole,” Chloe mumbles as she scoots down until she can lick over the tip of Harry's cock, her tongue lapping up some of the pre-come that has gathered at the tip. She takes him in her mouth after swallowing, taking in as much as she can.

 

“We surround ourselves with people we think we deserve,” Harry mumbles back at her. She doesn't know how to take it, so she chooses to ignore the comment, climbing on top of him instead and lowering herself onto his cock, moaning out loud when she feels him stretch her. He has to remind her to keep her voice down when she begins moving, the feeling of his cock inside her without a condom on so good she forgets there are about a hundred soldiers in the tents around them.

 

Harry's grabbing her waist, his lips apart as he watches Chloe move up and down, rocking back and forth on top of him. He can't remember the last time she'd been so eager to have sex with him – the baby news had kind of put a damper on both of their libidos.

 

“Come on,” Harry mumbles, pushing Chloe off him and onto her hands and knees, getting behind her and pushing back inside. Chloe takes one of their pillows and bites in it, her moans muffled by it but still audible to Harry, whose eyes roll back in his head when she groans his name. His hands find her pussy again, stroking over her clit until Harry can feel her tighten around his cock, her orgasm making her pussy grip him, massaging his dick. He knows he won't last for much longer, so he pulls out and turns her around roughly, onto her back. He's on top and back inside her in seconds, one of his hands grabbing her breast and tweaking her nipple, while he holds himself up with the other.

 

He comes inside her with a strangled cry, panting against her neck as his orgasm rushes through him.

 

Chloe catches his lips in a kiss when he tries to pull out of her, crossing her ankles behind his back to keep him close. She tangles her hands in his hair and kisses him until she's breathless, until she has to pull back.

 

And the thought of a life together with Harry has never seemed as inviting, as close as in that moment, when she stares up into his grey eyes, his pupils dilated in lust.

 

But the moment is gone as quickly as it had come, when the stark reality of their situation sets in. They're not even really dating; Even though Chloe would feel betrayed if Harry were to sleep with someone else, she doesn't feel like she's cheating on him when she's with Nathan. Or maybe she's just too self absorbed to care.

 

“What's wrong?” Harry asks her when she keeps staring at him, imagining waking up next to him in an actual bed, in a shared apartment, in England or back in Australia. It seems tempting, yet so foreign at the same time.

 

“I think...” Chloe trails off. _ I think I could love you. And it scares me. _

 

“You think what, darling?”

 

“Nothing.” Chloe shakes her head, releasing Harry from her grip. He lies down next to her and reaches for his shirt, putting it under her ass and thighs. _ For drippage _ , he explains, since they don't have any tissues lying around, and the walk over to the showers is long.

 

“I really, really want you to keep it,” Harry whispers into her ear when she cuddles up to him. It's the first time he says it out loud, and Chloe feels her heart grow heavy.

 

“Us, as parents?” She asks.

 

“I've taken worse jobs.”

 

“They didn't take nine months to complete, though.”

 

“With the pace this one is going, I'm not so sure.” Harry laughs, but there's no joy in his chuckle. “And I'm pretty sure the hard part begins after those nine months.”

 

“I've never even held a baby.”

 

“My sister has a son,” Harry says, putting an arm around Chloe as he turns onto his side, their faces so close together, they're practically touching. “He just got into primary school, I think. I haven't seen them in a while.”

 

“I didn't even know you had a sister.”

 

“Her name's Diana. A few years older than me. Her husband's a prick, but her kid is alright.”

 

“What's his name?”

 

“George. And don't even think about making jokes about Prince Harry and Prince George, I've heard them all before.”

 

“Is literally all your family named after British royalty?”

 

“Nah, my parents are Steve and Rosie.” Harry is quiet for a few seconds, before adding; “I've got it even worse than the rest of them, though, sodding _ Harry Potter _ stole my name as well. I was there before either of them.”

 

“Straight up plagiarism. I'd sue them.”

 

Harry chuckles. “What about you? Any family?”

 

“Just my parents, I guess.” She doesn't have a lot of contact to her extended family. It's too much effort to stay in touch with people she wouldn't like anyway, and growing up her parents never made an effort to get her to know either side of her family.

 

“My mother's family's Slovakian a few generations back, and my dad's family is from Britain, originally. Both as Australian as they come, now, though.”

 

“I was wondering about your accent, it's not typically Australian.”

 

“Yeah, dad likes to fancy himself a true Brit sometimes.” Chloe laughs at the memory of her father speaking in a weird mixture of accents just to confuse people. “Forced me to drink afternoon tea with him sometimes.”

 

“It's good that you're accepting my culture already.” Harry sounds incredibly tired, and she can see his eyes drooping in the dim light that comes in through the thick fabric of their tent. Chloe smiles and strokes his hair out of his face. He opens his eyes again and presses a kiss against her forehead, and he's out like a light in seconds.

 

Chloe sighs and turns onto her back, grabbing the shirt below her with a grimace and wiping between her legs, where Harry's come is leaking out of her. She's never been a huge fan of the clean up after unprotected sex, but she loves the feel of it too much to give up on it completely. _ And this is the perfect opportunity to have as much of it as possible _ , she thinks, trying to cope with dark humor.

 

God, she's _ fucked _ .

  
  


A soldier she hasn't talked to before ends up bringing her to the airport later that week, and Chloe boards the plane to Turkey with a queasy stomach, her thoughts on what will happen if she get's Nathan back into the mix. People will most likely die, going off Nathan's track record, but at least it will be over quicker, and they can all go back to their normal lives. She can go back to Australia, Harry to England, and Ivan back to his pregnant girlfriend.

  
  
Nathan comes and goes, and leaves a trail of devastation in his wake. They share a few heated, stolen moments against a tree when Sully isn't watching over them, and Chloe feels more alive than she's ever felt before. It's good with Nathan. It always has been.   
  
It's hard to watch Harry interact with him, the stark contrast of their relationship before Turkey and now, after Harry's betrayal, playing out in front of her like a Shakespearean play. She judges them for just a second, before she remembers the plans she made with Nathan that contained screwing over Lazarević and abandoning Harry.   
  
She was so careless with his feelings back then. She wonders if she still is, now.   
  
She wonders if he would see her as the bad guy if she decides to get rid of _ it. _   
  
And most of all she wants to know when she became the kind of girl trapped between feelings for two men who used to be friends, and are now mortal enemies. She's never fancied herself as the kind of girl to break up a year long friendship, even though she knows it's not just her that made this happen.

 

She still plays a part in it.   
  
  
Using the extensive medical equipment Lazarević's army had brought, Chloe watches Lazarević personally stitch up the few soldiers who had come in contact with Nathan and survived. Not for the first time Chloe wonders who the real monster is, or if they're all just varying degrees of cruel and callous murderers. It certainly makes her feel worse about herself than she already does. When it's her turn, she doesn't even dare to move in a way that would show off her stomach, or touch it in any way, even though she knows there's nothing to see yet. Lazarević bandages her quietly as Harry watches them, the heat of his gaze burning into her back and making her squirm on her chair.   
  
It's Ivan's turn after her, and she chooses to stay to talk to him instead of being alone with Harry. She doesn't want the confrontation just yet, can't deal with Harry's jealousy issues when there's enough going on in her life.   
  
"How did you get hurt?" Ivan asks her, pointing at her shoulder. He himself only sprained his ankle, probably not even in action if Lazarević's scoff is anything to go by.   
  
"Drake's bullet grazed me when he ran off," Chloe reiterates her lie, watching for Lazarević's reaction out of the corner of her eye. If he has any doubts on her story, he doesn't show it.   
  
" _ Ah, hvala, Gazda _ ," Ivan says when lazarevic finishes his ankle after just a few seconds, and he carefully stands up, testing his weight on his left leg. "Good enough," he shrugs before smiling at Chloe and stumbling over to his group of friends, which are waiting for him at the other side of the camp.   
  
There goes her only reason to not talk to Harry.   
  
With a sigh, Chloe walks out of the improvised hospital tent over to where Harry is leaning against one of the wooden walls of their camp, smoking. She shouldn't have brought back more cigarettes for him, he said he's been trying to quit.   
  
"You in pain?"   
  
"I'll survive," Chloe leans next to him, their shoulders bumping together.   
  
"I can ask Zoran for some pain killers, but..."   
  
"But?"   
  
"Can you take them? In your... Condition?"   
  
"I don't know," Chloe answers honestly. She has no idea how any of this works; she doesn't have a lot of female friends, and the few she has haven't had any children yet, either.   
  
God. She feels like a teenager who has to hide that she's having sex from her parents, not like a grown woman who deals with her own problems.   
  
"I probably shouldn't smoke with you next to me," Harry sighs and throws his cigarette into the swamp with a quiet _ plop _ as it hits the surface of the water. "Unless you don't want to keep it, that is."   
  
"I don't think I want to. Keep it, that is," she adds quickly when Harry turns his head towards her in surprise.   
  
"I like the thought of being a father."   
  
"I cringe at the thought of having to change a diaper."   
  
"I'll do that kind of stuff, then."   
  
"It's not that easy, is it though?"

 

“Because you don't love me.” It's not a question, a statement, made matter of fact, and Chloe doesn't know if she should be offended at Harry's observation or if she should feel bad about it. “Don't think for a second I don't know how Drake found his way here.”

 

“Harry-”

 

“No. Go play happy family with him. Knowing you, it's equally as likely it's his.”

 

Chloe watches him walk away, pulling out another cigarette as he vanishes into the thick of the jungle. She doesn't try to go after him, knows he needs his time to get over it before coming back to her. Until now, one of them has always come after the other.

 

She doesn't see Harry until he lies down into bed next to her that night, smelling strongly of nicotine even though he's freshly showered. He doesn't acknowledge her at all, turns her back towards her to fall asleep while Chloe stares at the back of his head.   
  
“You can't force me to have it. It's my body.”

 

“It's my kid as well.”

 

“Oh, so it's suddenly yours again.” Chloe scoffs. She can't and doesn't want to handle Harry behaving like a child about it. “You can just go to the next best girl and knock her up, you know that right? There's nothing special about it.”

 

“It's good to know you thoughts on this,” Harry replies.

 

“How am I supposed to take this?”

 

“For weeks you've been stringing me along, getting my hopes up with every day you're _ not _ telling me anything. Today's the first time you've actually told me the truth.”

 

“I'm not trying to hurt you. This is hard for me, too.”

 

“Have I ever said it's not hard for you?” Harry raises his voice and sits up in bed, staring down at Chloe who is still laying on her side. “Have I ever not supported you? I could have gone to Lazarević and told him Nathan showed up here because you got him out of prison. I didn't. Because I thought there was _ something _ . At least mutual respect.”

 

Chloe watches as Harry gets up again, putting on fresh clothes and storming out of the tent. She has no idea where he thinks he'll sleep tonight, but she doesn't care anymore. If he wants to fight about it, they can.   
  
  
  
  
It's their second to last night in Borneo, and Lazarević allows his men to crack open the bottles on a job well done before they make their way to Nepal. The camp is abuzz before the " _ Zabava _ " begins, hundreds of soldiers looking forward to the first real fun in a long time. Chloe wishes she could look forward to a glass or two of _ Rakija _ .   
  
She could drink, if she wanted to. She made up her mind already. Breaking Harry's heart in the process would even help him get over her quicker.   
  
Zoran sits at the head of the table, Harry to his right and then Chloe, and she practically forces Ivan to sit next to her. She doesn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of strange, drunk men, and being situated between Harry and Ivan will act as a buffer to anyone, especially since Ivan seems to be pretty well liked in the group. She's been watching him, and wherever he goes he seems to make friends. Chloe envies his ability to make people feel at ease. She's never been too good at that.   
  
She watches as Lazarević stands up to address his men before the meal, taking a shot which his men follow suit by drinking themselves and yelling and whistling afterwards. A few guys drum on the table, and Chloe quietly pushes her shot glass over to Harry's. She feels his hand on her thigh when he drinks his first and then hers, letting the empty glass disappear beneath the table.

 

They're really not good at staying mad at each other for too long.   
  
Chloe eats her rations, more than usual because they're celebrating, quietly and without anyone offering her any more alcohol. She watches Harry get progressively more drunk as the evening goes on, talking to Lazarević and sometimes to the soldiers, even though he can only speak a bit of Russian and no Serbian. He still gets his point across, Chloe thinks. Or at least the soldiers are humoring his attempts.   
  
She looks at Ivan as he quietens the group.   
  
" _ Kako spreciti bebu da place? _ " She hears him say before looking at the others expectantly.   
  
" _ Sekirom! _ " He yells and throws up his hands, a few of the soldiers laughing out loud and many chucking while shaking their heads. Someone even yells Ivan's name and, what Chloe presumes, cusses him out.   
  
"What did he say?" Chloe whispers in Harry's ear, but he's too drunk to even understand her right now, engrossed in some card game with three other guys. She turns to Ivan and asks him, instead.   
  
"Ah, I made a joke. How do you stop a baby from crying?" Ivan answers her question.   
  
"How?" Chloe asks, already fearing the response.   
  
"Axe." Ivan shrugs before smiling at her. "Probably not as funny to you as to them. It's better in Serbian, I swear."   
  
Chloe nods and turns back to her plate. She feels like she's about to empty the contents of her stomach onto it, and she takes a shot glass full of the colorless alcohol and drinks it down in one gulp.   
  
If Harry's allowed to have fun and be careless, she can be selfish as well.   
  
Chloe is quiet for the evening. She wishes she could just leave and go to bed, but she has to stay and put up a facade. She manages to at least crack a smile when a drunk Lazarević stumbles over to Ivan, who calls him _ Gazda Zoki, _ and claps his shoulder so hard he almost falls over, before hugging him and drinking another shot together. " _ Zajebavam te, _ " Zoran slurs as he pats Ivan's head and makes his way down the table to talk to a few different soldiers. She listens as they start singing Serbian folk songs, and even laughs out loud when Harry tries to learn them after some of the guys write them down in Cyrillic script for him. She's impressed that Harry even manages to read the scribbles, but then again there's a lot she doesn't know about the Brit.   
  
"They're about to dance _ kolo _ ," Ivan says as Chloe watches a few of the soldiers stand up and clear some space, a plastic bottle full of _ Rajika _ making its round as someone starts a battery operated radio.   
  
" _ Kolo _ ?" Chloe asks.   
  
"Traditional Serbian folk dance. I'd teach you, but my leg is fucked.” Ivan gestures to his foot, still in the make-shift cast Lazarević had put on the day before. Chloe looks up when the soldiers who are not standing up to dance begin clapping to the beat, and laughs when she sees the big, burly men grab each others hands and hop around.   
  
“It's a little ridiculous,” Ivan admits when he sees Chloe's smile. “But it's culture.”

 

It's early in the morning when the party starts winding down, some of the soldiers so drunk they're falling asleep on the floor or the benches.   
  
Chloe doesn't ask what " _ Volim te _ " means when Harry leans over and whispers it in her ear as they stumble to their tent. " _ Volim bebe, _ " with a stroke over her abdomen, and Chloe dies a million deaths when Harry presses a kiss on her cheek.   
  
He takes off her clothes and pulls her on top of him, stroking over her body with his big hands, until Chloe is so horny she can feel her wetness on her thighs. Her hands reach for Harry's dick, making a valiant effort at getting hard, but he's too drunk to actually get it up.   
  
"Come up," Harry whispers when he realizes that she wants sex, his hands pushing her up until her groin is over his face, his tongue darting out to lick over her clit. Chloe bites back a moan, all too aware that the only thing separating them from the others is the thin walls of their tent. She doesn't need the whole camp to know that she's fucking him, even though they all probably know.   
  
One of Harry's hands move from her ass to her pussy, rubbing up and down before Harry pushes one finger in. Chloe's thighs tremble. She has nothing to hold onto, since she doesn't want the tent crashing down around them by grabbing it, and Harry's hand on her butt isn't enough to keep her grounded.   
  
"I'm gonna fall over," Chloe presses out, and Harry understands, pulling finger back and out and letting her get on her back. He's between her legs in seconds, continuing where he left off.   
  
Even when drunk, Harry still knows how to make her cry out in pleasure, his tongue hard and fast, licking over her in circles, while two of his fingers move inside. Chloe can feel herself dripping onto the thin mattress beneath them.   
  


"God, Harry," she moans as she comes, arching her back while her hands come to rest on Harry's head, pulling at his hair. He moans against her as he speeds up his motions, letting Chloe ride out her orgasm before he pulls back and gets on his knees. He's hard now, she realizes when he pushes inside of her, fucking into her fast and rough.   
  
He gets on top of her when he can't keep his thrusts steady because he's so drunk, and Chloe grimaces when she can smell the alcohol on his breath with their faces so close together.   
  
"You're so beautiful," Harry slurs, before kissing her, accidentally knocking their teeth together. “You're the most beautiful girl in the world.”

 

“Harry?” Chloe asks when he stops moving, his body heavy on top of hers. He's fallen asleep she realizes, and she pushes him off her with all her might. He doesn't even stir. Chloe lets out a noise between a laugh and a sob, tears running down her face in an instant.

 

She regrets drinking, not just because she doesn't like the feeling of being drunk and helpless, but also she feels bad for the _ baby _ , for her own selfishness.

 

With a hand on her abdomen she curls around herself, whispering soft sorry's to her child until exhaustion overtakes her and rocks her into a dreamless sleep.   
  


  
They arrive in Nepal just under 48 hours later, and Harry drives to another part of the city with a few soldiers, searching the temples in that district. It gives Chloe enough time to go up to Lazarević's room, with a heart beat so fast it rivals any life or death situation she's been in before. He opens just a few seconds after she knocks, and looks surprised to see her.   
  
"I need your help," Chloe says before he can get the first word in. He nods and lets her inside his room.   
  
"I'm pregnant, and I need to get rid of it."   
  
"I was thinking something along those lines," Zoran gestures to the couch inside the room, "sit down."   
  
Chloe sits down, only realizing after how wobbly her legs are and how hard she's pushing her nails into her palms. There are red half moons, so deep that she thinks she might have broken the skin. Lazarevic comes back with a glass of water, putting it on the glass coffee table in front of her before sitting down next to her.   
  
"Wait, you knew?" Chloe asks after taking a sip.   
  
"No drinking alcohol, Flynn treating you like an invalid. Not hard to figure out."   
  
Chloe almost asks him if he's mad at her. She figures she has to cast somebody in the disappointed father role, with her own so far away and not knowing about any of this.   
  
"Not to mention the whole camp heard you two go at it every night," lazarevic adds, without any judgement in his voice, but Chloe still feels her face heat up in shame.   
  
"Not the smartest decision, considering your situation."   
  
"We used... Condoms," Chloe cringes as she tries to justify herself. "I didn't exactly plan this."   
  
"And now?" Zoran asks her.   
  
"I don't want to have it."   
  
He nods. "I can bring you to a hospital, or do it myself. Your choice."   
  
"You know how to do it?" Chloe asks, surprised. She knows Lazarević has medical knowledge far surpassing anybody else in his army, but she wouldn't have guessed he knew anything beyond how to treat broken bones and gunshot wounds.   
  
"In theory," Lazarević answers. "Finding a hospital that will do it here will be impossible. They're overcapacity, and you're farther along than three months, right?"   
  
"Just about," Chloe sighs. "I guess knowing in theory is good enough."   
  
Lazarević gets up and walks over the map of the city he has pinned against the wall of the hotel room.   
  
"Give me a day, I'll get everything I need," he turns around and faces her again, "I take it Flynn should stay on the other side of the city?"   
  
"That'd be for the best."   
  
Lazarević doesn't ask her about Harry's opinion on her decision, and she's thankful for that. She was scared he'd refuse to help her before asking Harry for his permission, a go-ahead he'd never get.

 

She won't even have to see them before she'll get it done. Short and painless, at least for him.

 

Chloe lays awake all night, not able to relax enough to fall asleep. Lazarević had gone to an abandoned hospital in the city, personally, to find all the tools he needs and doesn't have in his extensive medical supply already. She guesses even he didn't plan for such an occasion.

 

When she finally does fall asleep, she dreams of Harry. It's little fragments of dreams, never longer than just a few seconds playing in her head. At first they're back in Borneo together, kissing on the tree Harry sat to smoke. It cuts to their tent, them having sex, with Harry taking her from behind while he's pulling on her hair. And then they're running through the jungle together, and she's scared, but she doesn't know of what. Something’s chasing them, she knows, and Harry takes her hand to pull her behind him because he's so much _ faster _ , while Chloe feels like she's running through waist high water.   
  


The dreams ends with her falling, and Harry abandoning her.

 

She wakes up drenched in sweat, her hair sticking to her face and her shirt wet, sticking to her body. Nausea hits her and she jumps out of bed, shivering due to the cold temperature during the morning hours, before the sun rises high enough to warm up the city.

 

The last few days had been kind on her, with no morning sickness and just an occasional queasy feeling when smelling the greasy, disgusting food they had to eat. Chloe guesses it's not just her hormones, but also the thought of what's to come today making her vomit. She's always had a sensitive stomach, always been a sympathetic puker as well.

 

She spends the day in the hotel, watching as soldiers come in and out. Ivan stops by to talk to her during noon, and she watches him eat before he has to get back into the city with his troop, searching for anything that could be a clue. They're looking through the temples, he explains, but they haven't found what they're looking for, yet.

 

“To be honest, I have no idea what we're looking for; I'm just here to shoot at things,” he jokes before leaving her alone again, waiting for three o'clock, the time Lazarević had told her to come back up to his hotel room.

 

She can't take the endless waiting around and instead opts for a quick jog around the block, trying not to run too far away from the hotel. She's armed, but there's no need to get into a confrontation with the rebels. As far as she knows Nathan hasn't shown up in Nepal yet, so she's not scared of accidentally running into him.

 

One round around the hotel quickly turns into ten, and Chloe's absolutely exhausted by the time she gets back into her room to shower. She only has half an hour left before the clock strikes three.

  
  
  


Chloe's limbs feel heavy and move sluggish as she steps into the room prepared by Lazarević. There's a plastic sheet on the bed, and on a tray there's a lot of medical equipment she doesn't even know the names of. They look scary, to say the least, and she averts her gaze to Zoran, who is pushing a foot rest the the end of the bed. For him to sit on, Chloe realizes. She'll lie on the bed, with him between her spread legs. She's grateful a mysterious razor had shown up in her bathroom the day before. One less thing to be embarrassed about.   
  
"Take this," Lazarević says and he hands her a pill together with a glass of water. "It will calm you down."   
  
"I think I need horse tranquilizer for that," Chloe mumbles as she first puts the half black, half turquoise pill on her tongue and then washes it down with the cold water. It hits her empty stomach uncomfortably.

 

She'd taken one pill Lazarević had  given her that morning already. She didn't ask what it was for, but he'd told her to keep it pressed under her tongue until it disappeared. Just swallowing these is a lot easier and more comfortable.  
  
"I don't have any means to put you under completely," Lazarević continues as if she hadn't said anything, "so local anesthetic and Chlordiazepoxide have to do."  
  
"Chlordi-what?"  
  
"It'll ensure you won't care enough to do anything that could complicate the procedure."  
  
Chloe shrugs. She's taken it now already, she's not about to go to the bathroom and throw it up in order to stay in control of her body. She's given that up the second she stepped into the room. She takes the hospital robe Lazarević laid on the bed for her and gets undressed in front of him, fastening the strings behind her body to give her at least a shred of decency. He'll see her most intimate parts soon, anyway, there's no reason for her to be ashamed anymore.  
  
She lays down on the bed, the cool plastic sheet beneath her sticking to her naked skin, and Lazarević steps up to her with a syringe full of fluid. She winces as he injects her with it, pain spreading through her abdomen as the needle slips deep inside her.  
  
"Why are you helping me?" Chloe asks, the question burning on her mind ever since Lazarević had agreed to doing it.  
  
"Being pregnant in a time of war- it's never recommendable," he answers after sitting down on the foot rest he'd prepared earlier, wrapping the needle in toilet paper before throwing it into a trash bin he's prepared next to the bed.  
  
"This isn't a war."  
  
"There was a war when my sister was pregnant."  
  
Chloe listens up. She doesn't know anything about Lazarević except that he worked for the Serbian regime during the Yugoslavian war, not officially of course.  
  
"My family was sent to Vukovar, a city on the border of Croatia and Serbia. It was there she was raped by a rebel."  
  
"And you helped her get an abortion, too?"  
  
"No." Chloe watches as Lazarevic puts antiseptic onto his hands and up halfway his forearms. "She died during childbirth."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Ljubica made her choice. She didn't listen to any reason. All I could do was avenge her after."  
  
Chloe's getting drowsy, and she can't seem to get a clear thought through her brain anymore. She feels like she's floating, as if nothing could ever hurt her. She can't get words to leave her mouth, her tongue feeling heavy and lazy in her mouth, even though she wants to ask Lazarević what he means with 'avenging her death.'  
  
"Stay like this, don't move," she hears Zoran say after he gets her into position with a pillow below her lower back, her legs spread wide to either side of her body. She knows he starts when she feels pressure _down there_ , but there's no pain, and she can't see what he's doing due to the hospital gown being draped over her knees. She begins thinking about Lazarević's sister, Ljubica, and how scared she must have been, how much she must have loved her baby to keep it even if someone had forced themselves on her. She must have loved her child even more than Harry loves theirs already. Chloe wishes she could love unconditionally as well.  
  
It doesn't take long until Lazarević starts cleaning up, closing up the trash bag before Chloe can see any of the things inside. He gives her an adult diaper, and Chloe feels tears roll down her cheeks when he needs to put it on her because she can't reach for it.  
  
"Stay in bed," he tells her, "everything went well, no complications. There are painkillers, take them when you need them."  
  
Chloe nods, tears clouding her vision.  
  
"Is it gone?" She asks one more time when Lazarević is already at the door, about to walk out.  
  
“It's gone. Go to sleep," he says, and the door closes with a defeating click of the lock.  
  
  
When Chloe wakes up, there's screaming outside her door. It's Harry's voice, she recognizes it straight away, but she's never heard him this mad before, absolutely furious. She wonders how long she's slept – she doesn't have her phone with her and there's no alarm clock in the hotel room – but it's light outside. She tries to turn towards the window, wanting to at least know the rough time of day, but she stops turning when pain shoots through her body. She cries out and her hands fly to her abdomen, pressing them over where most of the pain seems to come from.

 

She remembers the pills that are lying on her night stand together with a glass of water. There's a note written by Lazarević with them.

 

_ Antibiotics _

_ 2 x day _

 

_ Ibuprofen _

_ Don't overdose _   
  


Chloe takes one of the antibiotics, and two of the Ibuprofen.

 

She sets down the glass just as the ruckus outside of the room stops, and she can hear Lazarević's muffled voice through the wooden door. Harry interrupts him, but she can't make out any of the words shared between the two men. She doesn't want to hear them, anyway, so she takes one of the pillows and pushes it over her head, blocking out all the noise from outside. She's almost asleep again when she hears her voice called, softly this time.

 

She turns towards the sound, and sees Harry standing there, looking lost and broken. His eyes are red and swollen, his cheeks flushed and his hair a mess, so different from his usual slicked back style. The only time she's seen it like that before was when they had sex.

 

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he sits down on the edge of her bed, his back turned towards her. She sees Lazarević stand in the door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest, watching them intently. Chloe wonders if him being there was a condition on Harry being allowed to see her.

 

“I'm alright,” Chloe whispers, reaching out to take Harry's hands in hers, but he pulls back just as she's about to touch him. He can't even stand to look at her, and Chloe bites her lip as she watches him sigh deeply and lean his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He stands up soon after and leaves the room, Lazarević stepping out of the way to let him out. They stare at each other for just a second, before Lazarevic leaves as well, closing the door behind him again.

 

It's late at night when she gets woken up again, Lazarević forcing her to take her antibiotics even though all she wants to do is sleep and forget about reality.

 

It takes three days for her to even feel like a functional human again.

 

She eats with the soldiers downstairs again, and there's no more pain, just the feeling of loss. No, she doesn't miss her child, but she misses the way Harry looked at her when she still had been pregnant, the way he'd carefully touch her at night.

 

He's been gone every time she's out of her bed, and Chloe's stomach is in knots when she realizes that he's actively avoiding her, and it's not just him acting on Lazarević's orders.

 

She's driven away the one person who always took her back, no matter what she'd done.

  
  
  


The fourth day after, Chloe overhears the soldiers talking about Nathan. He's in the city, wrecking havoc on his path to finding Shambhala and the Cintamani stone before them, and Chloe knows he has a good chance of actually achieving it. He has something about him, that unrelenting drive for finding greatness that makes it impossible for him to let go of something once he starts it.   
  
She wishes he had that sort of passion when it comes to the people in his life, instead of up and leaving them whenever they get too close. She doesn't know who or what hurt him, but there's never been someone in his life she's seen at his arm for longer than a few months. Even she had been expandable, back in the past.   
  
In a spur of the moment decision, Chloe sneaks out of the hotel, armed to her teeth, on a quest to find him. She's not in pain anymore and her bleeding is light to non existent at times. She still doesn't feel like she lost something.   
  
It's not hard to know where Nathan is - she just follows the sound of gunshots while avoiding running into the rebels or the Nepali army. Lazarević's men don't even stand out in this city, half of it rubble already with most of the population fleeing to other parts of the country. It fits right into his path of destruction on his way to Shambhala.   
  
Flirting with Nathan comes back easily to her; she hasn't seen Harry in days, not even sure where he is at the moment, if he's even still in Nepal or if Lazarević sent him home after his outburst outside of the hotel room she was sleeping in. Apparently he had gone as far as to physically attack Lazarević, one of the soldiers had said to her when she had carefully asked about it, and Chloe is amazed that he survived without any bullets riddling his body.   
  
She hates that he tries to play the part of the victim just as much as she hates Nathan always having to play the bloody hero, dragging around a wounded cameraman, slowing them down to the point where Harry finds them together with a group of soldiers.   
  
He's surprised to see her, that much is clear. She's still supposed to be on bed rest; Lazarević had given her four days off her duties in order to recover from the surgery. Chloe feels as if there's an electric shock when he touches her arm, pushing her towards the soldiers who he says are supposed to take her to a train. She takes one look behind her as she walks out the door, one last glare at Nathan for ending their little adventure prematurely by caring more about other people than himself, than about _ her _ . Her eyes land on Harry, his gun aimed at Nathan, no second glance spared as he stares down Nathan. She thinks that maybe this time, he's had enough of her switching sides, of her not committing to him in the way he wanted her to.   
  
It proves right when all he does is yell at her when he shows up at the train station, his nose bloody and a rage in his eyes she has never seen before.   
  
"Get in the sodding train," he says, roughly grabbing her arm and trying to push her inside. Chloe slaps his hand away and takes a few steps back.   
  
"Stop pushing me around!" Chloe yells at him, refusing to walk up the steps and get in, just out of spite. He doesn't even talk to her for days, and now thinks he can order her around?   
  
"Just get in or he'll leave you behind, this time. I'm not sticking my neck out for you again."   
  
Chloe doesn't have anything smart to say after that, angrily stomping down the hallways of the train to where Lazarević's men are seated. She looks around the train trying to find Ivan's face amid the sea of soldiers, her heart sinking with each row she passes. She doesn't want to ask. Doesn't want to know what happened to him, she knows already. She can't decide if she hates Nathan, or the situation that forces him to do these things more. She walks up to the small group of soldiers sitting in the last few rows, one of the last groups to arrive back at the train station, she remembers.

 

“Ivan Zagor š ak?” She asks them, but they just shake their heads. Chloe nods slightly and bites her lip before leaving them again, walking back towards Harry.

 

“Chloe,” one of them yells after her after, and she's so surprised they even know her name that she stops dead in her tracks and turns around.

 

It's one of the guys Ivan hang around a lot, a huge, bald man with almost black eyes. She thinks his name might be Dragan. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out something Chloe doesn't recognize at first glance. She turns it over in her hand and realizes it's dog tags, with Ivan's name on them, probably from his time in the army back in Serbia.

 

“Thank you.” Chloe swallows hard, trying to not cry in front of them.

 

It's stupid, she hadn't even known him for that long. But Ivan had been the closest thing to a friend she had the last few months.

 

She hears Nathan's name cracking out of one of the walkie-talkies of the soldiers, and she sees them scramble to get their weapons, walking out of the train compartment in a frenzy. He's here. He's come after her.

 

She needs Nathan off that train. He needs to leave them alone, let Lazarević get what he wants so no further lives have to end because two men have to let their egos compete in a fruitless search after an imaginary stone with superpowers. Even if it means making Nathan hate her as well, she needs him to just leave them be, have his happily live with his blonde, white-picket-fence girlfriend and their 2.5 kids.  
  
He'd made his choice, as soon as she showed back up.  
  
She does get rid of him, but not in the way she expected. She has half the mind to jump in front of Harry as he pulls the trigger again, pleading for Nathan's life. She gets pushed by him again, hitting the ground hard, and if that's how Harry treats the people he doesn't care about, she'd rather have pretended to love him. She wonders what she'd done that hurt him so much - surely it can't _just_ be the abortion.  
  
"Put him out of his misery!" Chloe hears Harry yell, and soldiers run past where she's lying, slowly getting up, pain spreading through her body, from the fall, from her pain killers that stopped working, from where she got shot.  
  
She looks up at Harry, who's staring after Nathan, a blank look on his face. She'd expected hate, anger, _something_ , but there's nothing in Harry's eyes.  
  
He looks like a man who's lost it all.  
  
"Harry," Chloe says, nothing but a whisper coming out of her mouth, barely audible over the rumbling of the train. He turns his head to look at her just as an explosion rips him off his feet as well, falling onto the ground next to her.  
  
"Get up, we have to run," Harry says, taking her hand and pulling her up with him. The train rocks dangerously as they run out of the compartment, and they barely manage to jump before seemingly half of the train slides down the mountain. Chloe looks after it, shock churning her stomach. Nathan is in there.  
  
"Chloe!" Harry yells at her, his voice hitting her ears as if it was muffled through a pillow.  
  
"Come, damnit!" He tugs on her arm again, and Chloe starts walking with him fast, albeit a bit unwillingly.  
  
"He's gonna fucking kill me," she hears Harry mumble as they make their way to the front of the train. "He's gonna fucking kill us both."  
  
Chloe is quiet, sits down where Harry pushes her into a seat before he goes into the compartment where Lazarević is sitting. She can't listen to their conversation over the sound of the train moving, so she looks out of the window, trying to see the derailed part of the train, but they're too far away already.  
  
"Chloe?" She turns her head to where Harry is standing at the door, closing it slowly behind him. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Never been better," she answers sarcastically.  
  
Harry sighs and sits down next to her, leaving space between their bodies. A few weeks prior he would have still tried to touch her every moment, couldn't keep his hands off her. She wonders what she has to do to get back to their relationship before all this shit went down.  
  
"I'm sorry," Chloe winds up saying. She's not sure exactly what she's apologizing for.  
  
"Water under the bridge," Harry replies and pulls out his packet of cigarettes, almost empty. "At least I can smoke in front of you again."  
  
Chloe let's out a tired laugh and inches her way over to Harry, leaning her head against his arm. She's tired - she's been up, running around for hours, and this is the first time she's rested.  
  
"Lie down," Harry says, and she complies, putting her head in his lap. His hand strokes through her hair as she tries to sleep, but her head is running wild with all her thoughts.  
  
"Do you think he's dead?" Chloe asks.  
  
"I've seen Nathan survive worse."  
  
"Worse than getting shot and derailing a train?"  
  
"Okay, maybe not," Harry chuckles, blowing out smoke between his lips. "Does it matter now?"  
  
"It matters to me."  
  
She hears Harry sigh and he takes his hand away from her head. She grabs it quickly and wraps it around her body, his palm ending up on her stomach. She can feel him tense up - the last time he's touched her there, she was still pregnant. The last time they've really touched each other, Harry still had hope that she'd change her mind and keep it.  
  
"I didn't do it to hurt you," Chloe says, and she's talking about the baby and Nathan alike. "I did what I thought was right."  
  
"We have a very different opinion on what's right, then." Harry's hand stills on her body, not struggling to pull away anymore. "Aren't you cold?" He asks her, his fingers stroking over the exposed part of her belly.  
  
"Freezing," Chloe answers honestly.  
  
"I'll get us our coats-"  
  
"No, stay," Chloe holds onto his arms as he tries to push her off him, "just... Just hold me, for a while."  
  
"I can do that," Harry almost whispers as Chloe climbs into his lap, wrapping her arms around his body and resting her head on his shoulder. He kisses her cheek and pulls her tightly against his chest, their bodies still fitting together as well as they did four months ago, in his apartment in London.  
  
"I love you," Harry mouths against the sensitive skin on her neck, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back. Chloe chooses to pretend she didn't notice. She wouldn't know how to respond, anyway.  
  
  
They leave the train and drive on by car, Chloe finally getting her winter coat and wrapping herself up in it. Harry holds her hands to warm them up when they're sitting in the back seat, on their way to the mountain Nathan and she had marked on the map back in Nepal. A soldier she doesn't know is driving, and she wishes she could ask him about Ivan, but he doesn't speak English and she's too proud to ask Harry to translate it into mediocre Russian their driver isn't going to understand, anyway.  
  
They can't stay at a hotel because they lack the papers to stay in Tibet, legally, but there's also no city within a hundred miles, Chloe knows. So they all end up staying in the monastery where they're searching their next clue, without the Phurba dagger once again. Lazarević had sent out a team to retrieve it (and check if Nathan's still alive, and if he is, _kill him_ ), but until then Chloe and Harry have to figure out what _exactly_ it does, and where. Chloe almost laughs out loud at the faith Lazarević still has in them.  
  
It's freezing in their room at night, and they huddle together for warmth inside one sleeping bag. Chloe can feel Harry hard against her ass when he hugs her from behind, but he doesn't initiate anything that goes farther than warming his hands between their bodies. She wants to have sex with him, never stopped wanting, but she knows she can't _physically._  
  
Also, if she had learned anything from the last few months, it's that Harry's sperm will fight its way through anything. And she's not about to go get a second abortion because of the same guy.  
  
"The search troop didn't come back," Harry says the next morning, already dressed and bringing Chloe burning hot coffee and some breakfast when she wakes up. "Which either means Drake is alive or they're even less competent than I already thought they were."  
  
Chloe nods solemnly and takes a sip of her coffee, burning her tongue.  
  
"I thought it would make you happy."  
  
"Make me happy?" Chloe asks, already bracing herself for another argument. It seems as if the only thing they do nowadays is fight about things.  
  
"Drake being alive."  
  
"Yeah, I'm thrilled," Chloe says without any emotion in her voice. Of course she's happy Nathan didn't die. But she's not going to jump up and down at the thought of him killing even more of Lazarević's men, whose numbers have been dwindling steadily since they arrived in Nepal.  
  
Harry sits down next to her when he realizes she's not going to get into a fight with him, taking her jacket from the heap of clothes inside her traveling bag and putting it over her shoulders.  
  
"You're gonna get sick."  
  
"Thanks," Chloe sighs, deciding to not get irrationally angry at him for treating her like a child. "What're we doing today, anyway?"  
  
"Searching for clues, I guess. I've got no idea what to look for."

 

Chloe breathes out something resembling a laugh and sets down her plastic cup on the ground next to her, turning towards Harry. She pushes him back onto the inflatable mattress Lazarević had given them and kisses him, trying to put as much of her feelings into it as possible, even though not even she is sure what those feelings are, anymore. Not hate. Not indifference towards him. Something akin to being fond of him and what they had, before.  
  
"When this is done-" Chloe begins, but she stops herself.  
  
"What? You'll run away with me? Bullshit, Chloe. You'll be in Nathan's arms as soon as this is over."  
  
"No," Chloe shakes her head, "he made his choice already."  
  
"Aw," Harry says and laughs condescendingly, "did he choose the plain one above you, darling? How cruel of him. Going back to your second choice because he doesn't want you anymore?"  
  
She wonders who the cruel one is as Harry laughs at her pain, but she tries not to show how hard his words hit her.  
  
"Constantly self-depreciating yourself is not an attractive quality," she says instead.  
  
"Oh yes, I do everything in life for _you_." Harry pushes her off her and stands back up, walking out of the room.  
  
"Oh and if you, for once, decide to be helpful instead of a constant pain in the ass, I'll be searching for the entrance to Shambhala," he adds before closing the door behind himself, leaving Chloe behind, cold and pissed off. Fuck her for wanting them to be on good terms again.  
  
Half of Lazarević’s remaining men are gone when she steps outside the monastery, searching for Nathan and the dagger, the other half are patrolling around the compound. She asks someone for Harry, who points her to the direction of one of the smaller stone houses, where she finds him inspecting Tibetan writing on the walls.  
  
"I should have studied East Asian studies instead of archaeology, I guess," he says when he sees her walking in.  
  
"I didn't even know you went to university."  
  
"Even did my master. You?"  
  
"Quit after the first semester. I only went because my dad wanted me to study engineering."  
  
"Engineering? Glad you turned out straight."  
  
"I did get hit on a lot by both genders back then," Chloe laughs, as she steps next to Harry, their arms flush against each other as they stare at the inscriptions on the wall.  
  
"You didn't by chance learn anything about this while in uni," Harry asks, sighing and pulling out a cigarette.  
  
"I was seeing a Chinese guy for a while, but he wasn't from Tibet."  
  
"Really, Chinese?" Harry sounds surprised.  
  
"Second generation, born in Gold Coast. He taught me how to swear in Mandarin."  
  
Harry laughs.  
  
"Come on, amaze me."  
  
" _Cao ni ma_ means fuck your mother. _Sha bi_ is stupid cunt."  
  
"That'll come in handy back in England," Harry says, taking a drag from his cigarette and testing out the feeling of the words on his tongue, trying to get the pronunciation right.  
  
Chloe looks at him out of the corners of her eyes, the slight smile on his face as he taps his cigarette to get rid of the ash on the front. It's been a long time since she's seen him smile instead of just smirk down at people in disdain. It makes him look a lot younger, softens the wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth. She wonders what he must have looked like in his twenties.  
  
Handsome, probably. She wonders if he had a girlfriend back then, something serious during university that fell apart when he got wrapped up in this lifestyle. She's never had something serious before. Nothing that went more than a few months before she got bored of the guy and left them, in a cruel way, most of the time.  
  


They've always loved her more than she loved them.  
  
"I guess we're just going to have to wait for him to show up," Harry says as he crushes his cigarette beneath his boot. "I'm sure as shit not gonna find anything."  
  
"If he shows up."  
  
"Of course he's gonna. If only to make sure I'm not the one who gets the glory."  
  
She watches as Harry walks out of the room, already lighting another cigarette.  
  
Nathan does show up, takes the dagger from them they've only just gotten back. Chloe makes sure nobody walks in on him as he figures out the riddle inside the room, in about one fifth of the time it would have taken Harry and her together. Then she tries to find Harry, scared for his life. He shouldn't have gone after Lazarević alone, after being physically attacked and threatened by him.  
  
She stops in front of his room when she can hear them talking, pressing her ear against the wood to make out their words.  
  
"-if you do anything to her, I'll make sure you'll never find anything."  
  
"She's a traitor. You know what happens to traitors."  
  
Chloe swallows as she remembers the man Lazarević stabbed in Borneo for lifting artifacts.  
  
She's done much worse, and she knows what Lazarević is capable of. There's no alternative that's looking good for her right now, except trusting her life in Harry's hands.  
  
"I don't care what you do to any of your men, but you can't touch her. She's off the table."  
  
She hears Lazarević stomp around the room, grumbling to himself. They're moving to a corner farther away from the door, and Chloe finally musters up the courage to knock on the door.  
  
Lazarević opens it and she walks into the room, next to Harry, knowing he'll at least jump in front of her in case Lazarević would want to hurt her.  
  
"Drake is here," she says, raising her chin in defiance, to show she's not scared. "He got the dagger."  
  
"How come you're still alive, then? How come all of my men die, but it's always you two that come out without a scratch?" Zoran circles them, like a lion about to pounce on his prey, and Harry puts his arm around Chloe's waist, pulling her closer to his body.  
  
"We're not working with him, I told you," Harry almost pleads.  
  
"Oh, I know you're not, he doesn't have any use for you," Lazarević says, then he points at Chloe, "her, though. Men are too weak when it comes to leaving behind women."  
  
"She belongs to me," Harry says firmly, "she's not working with Drake."  
  
"Don't fool yourself," Zoran laughs at him. "She'll leave to run after him the first chance she gets."  
  
"We'll see when it comes to that," Harry says.  
  
"I want you to keep an eye on her. Don't let her out of your sight. This is an order."  
  
Harry nods and pulls her with him out of the room.  
  
"And Flynn," Harry stops just as he's about to close the door, "if one of you runs, you're both dead."  
  
Chloe sees Harry swallow hard before closing the door, his eyes meeting hers.  
  
"I hope you know he means it," he says, before pulling her into a room where a few of Zoran's soldiers are seated, waiting for their orders to go out and fight. A few of them look scared, a few determined, and one of Ivan's old group even smiles and nods at her. She forgot his name.  
  
"You're staying here until Lazarević tells you to move," Harry says as he pushes her into a chair, "and don't try anything funny."  
  
"You're the big man now, aren't you," Chloe says grimly, glaring up at Harry and crossing her arms. She can't believe he can be callous to her in front of other people and still paint himself as the victim of the situation. "And you still think I should love you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, insult me some more," Harry replies while rolling his eyes. "Manipulation is just what you were still lacking."  
  
Chloe is quiet, mad that Harry looked right through her plan of making him feel bad about how he's treating her. She waits for what it feels like hours, but could have only been twenty minutes until the next group leaves the building.  
  
"Still in a bitchy mood?" Harry asks her as the room empties. Chloe doesn't answer.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes, then." He turns towards her with a sigh. "We don't have to do this. The resenting each other part. You hurt me, and somehow I hurt you, too. Big deal."  
  
"Would you still want me?" Chloe asks, the question burning on her mind ever since they've arrived in Tibet, when Harry didn't try to have sex with her while they were cuddled against each other in the sleeping bag. It's how he's shower his love before, and now that he's not doing it Chloe doesn't know how to judge his feelings for her.  
  
"I would always want you," Harry says after a while, looking down at the ground and avoiding her gaze. "Christ, you could probably stab me and I'd still beg for more."  
  
"Why?" Chloe asks. She doesn't understand, has never felt the infatuation Harry has for her for anyone in her life. Nathan might have come the closest, but even then she knows they would only last for a while before one of them would leave again, tired of the same old shit over and over again.  
  
"I guess it's why they say that love makes you blind."  
  
"You don't love me," Chloe says, frustrated, stopping herself from pulling on her own hair. "I've given you no reason to love me."  
  
"If you'd like to believe that."  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"You're a cunt."  
  
Chloe huffs and crosses her legs and arms.  
  
They don't talk again until Lazarević comes to get the rest of his men, and they walk down into the mountain through the opening of the shrine, down into Shambhala. Where she's used as a chess piece in Lazarević's game, playing Harry and Nathan like a fiddle with her death hanging over them like a storm cloud about to open its flood gates.  
  
There she is again, the same girl, still in the middle of two men who only want to best for her, even after she's screwed them both over, _again_.  
  
And when they get attacked by the guardians, Harry's gun pressed to her head, she makes a decision to run for it. She'd rather die trying to help Nathan than further be a part of this. So she elbows Harry in the face, hearing the sickening crack of the bone and she crushes it into his face, before Nathan, Elena, and her make a run for it.  
  
They all make their choices, and this is hers.

 

When she sees Harry stumble towards them, a hole in his chest just above his heart from where Lazarević had shot him, she learns that sometimes it's not that easy to live with your choices.

 

“Oh, Harry,” she raises her hand to her mouth as he slides down on one of the pillars in the room. His face is bloody just like his jacket, and Chloe feels light headed when she realizes that there's no way he's going to survive blood loss like that.

 

She's almost hurt that he doesn't spare her a last glance as he holds up the grenade, meant for her, to take them both out, like Lazarević had promised them. But it's not her that gets hurt, it's Elena, and she has to get her out of this before she dies as well, in this god forsaken country, because of an obsession that killed hundreds of people.

  
  
She can't have one more corpse on her conscience, so she holds Elena's hand and strokes through her hair as Nathan walks on, to end it all.


	2. Epilogue

 

Chloe looks up and down the street, gray brick houses, one next to the other. It's cold, a wind chilling her even through the thick, brown leather jacket she's wearing. She knows she's at the right house, but she can't yet walk up the small walkway to the door. She checks her pocket again, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal of Ivan's dog tags, before she braces herself and starts to walk towards the house, knocking on the old wooden door.

It's taken her a few months to find out where Ivan's girlfriend lives now – all she had to go off on was Ivan's full name and her first name, and the fact that Mirjana was pregnant, or might already have a little baby. When she hadn't gotten any farther calling around in English, she found a translator in Sydney who helped her, and finally got her the address of the house she's standing in front of.

A tall, dark haired girl opens the door, saying something in Serbian that Chloe doesn't understand. Chloe pulls out the small piece of paper she prepared for this occasion, with all the things she could think of to give to the translator.

“Da li ste Mirjana?“ _Are you Mirjana?_

The woman nods.

“Ja Sam Chloe. Bio Sam prijateljica Ivan.“ _I'm Chloe. I was a friend of Ivan._

She sees Mirjana bite her lip before letting her step inside. Chloe follows her into a small, brown kitchen, where a little baby is lying on a blanket on the ground. Chloe guesses it's only a few months old, and guesses it's a little girl based on the pink onesie it's wearing.

“Julia,” Mirjana says as she picks up the baby, giving it a kiss before holding her out to Chloe. She begins speaking again, looking at Chloe incredulously as she hesitantly reaches out and takes Julia in her arms.

“No Serbian,” Chloe explains, shaking her head. “English?”

Mirjana shakes her head as well, sighing. Chloe clumsily reaches into her pocket again, pulling out Ivan's dog tags and a crumpled up letter she let her translator write for her, explaining what happened in the months Ivan was gone, why he never came back. Chloe knows Mirjana must know that he's dead, but she can't deny the little spark of hope she had seen in the woman's dark eyes as Chloe had mentioned his name. The spark is gone as soon as she reaches for the metal and reads it's inscription with Ivan's name. She thanks Chloe in English, one of the few things she knows in the language, Chloe figures, and then sits down at the table to read the letter.

Chloe looks back down at Julia, who's looking up at her with the same eye color Ivan had, the so untypical blue-gray mixture in a sea of brown eyes. She sees Ivan in them, and herself, and _him_.

Mirjana isn't the only one who lost someone.

Julia begins whimpering, and Chloe softly rocks her in her arms until she quietens down again. Chloe tries to subtly smell her, having heard of the _new baby smell_ before, but she's never been close to such a young kid before. She's a little surprised to find the smell actually there, and not just to be a tale new mothers tell themselves to make them love their children more.

It's weird to think that if Chloe just made one small decision differently a few months back, she'd stand her with her own child. A child that, too, would never meet it's father.

She'd have called it Alice if it was a girl. Mason for a boy, maybe, but she's not sure anymore.

There are tears in Mirjana's eyes as she gets up again, the letter clutched to her chest. She thanks Chloe again, gives her a hug before taking Julia from her and hugging her baby, kissing the top of her head. Chloe only gives her back reluctantly, before she realizes she's behaving irrationally. Mirjana needs her more than Chloe.

She's had her chance.

Chloe leaves with a nod and a tight smile for Mirjana, breathing in the cold, fresh air and clearing her head when she steps outside again.

 

A last grab into her pocket.

A picture of Harry, folded up with yet another letter.

And with a heavy heart Chloe makes her way back into the city. She's got a flight to catch.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Dear Mirjana,_

 

_My name is Chloe Frazer, and I worked together with Zoran Lazarevic, the same man Ivan worked for. It's my deepest regret to inform you that Ivan died while in action._

_He was a good friend to me as I was going through a hard time while working with him. He always picked up on my moods and tried to make me feel better, be it with jokes or stories about him growing up. He also told me a lot about you. He loved you a lot, and he couldn't wait to come back and buy you the prettiest wedding ring he could find. His love for you was only rivaled by the love he felt for your child._

_I don't know what else to say to you, except that I'm incredibly sorry I couldn't save him. The only thing I can give to you is the dog tags he was wearing when he died. His friends brought them back to me when I asked for them, but they're all dead now, too._

 

_I hope you can forgive me._

  
  
  
  


_Dear Steve and Rosie,_

 

_I'm sorry your son is dead. I loved him as well, even though I never told him. I hope you did, before he left, so he didn't die thinking there's nobody in the world who cares about him._

_Tell his sister he loved her, and her son._

 

_He's always wanted kids._

  
  
  
  
She decides to keep the picture.


End file.
